Snow Angels
by Baki-chan
Summary: CxA Collins and Angel spend a day in the snow, consequences be damned!
1. Chapter 1

**Title: Snow Angels**  
**Author: bakichan**  
**Fandoms:** RENT

**Pairings: CxA **  
**Spoilers: a few here and there**  
**Type of fic:** slightly AT, continuous  
**Summary: Collins and Angel spend a day in the snow. Consequences be damned!**  
**Author's Notes:**** NOTE: I have only—ONLY, seen the movie. My thoughts pretty much mimic everyone else's about the severe lack of relationshipness. Especially if they want us to believe Angel 'helped them believe in love'. Exactly when does he even do that? Movie or musical? I donno! Very unfulfilling...Rant later, fic now.**

**Disc**: I own nothing that has to do with RENT--I don't claim to be a creator or anything silly like that! But I do own zebra stockings that look a lot like Angels' :DD

Chapter 1: Let It Snow!

Outside the loft where Angel Dumott Schunard and Tom Collins called home, snow began to fall. It was small, puffy flakes drifting seconds apart from each other to the frost-bitten earth.

Sitting on a recently bought stool by the window and balcony, Angel resisted the urge to press his face and hands against the freezing window and stare out like a small child. He absolutely loved the winter!

In his younger days, Angel could remember having gone out in a large magenta coat, yellow gloves, skin-tight green pants and clunky boots with his sister, jumping in snow-drifts and catching flakes on their tongues. They'd flop onto the ground and wave their arms, sitting up carefully with snow stuck to their hair and hats. Laughing, they'd examine their angels.

Remembering made the drag queen smile fondly. He watched kids—in the East Village?—run by below, brightly dressed. He didn't think anyone in this part of New York could afford to breed anymore.

'Oh well.' He continued to watch the life bustling hungrily outside, wishing his lover would venture back into wakefulness and join him for a drink and, yes, food. Apparently the colder it is the more people need their spirits lifted with a fabulous beat!

Or so he liked to believe.

"Angel? What'cha doin', baby?" the professor asked, slurred by a wide yawn. The shorter man twirled around, grinning broadly at his lover.

"Morning, honey." Angel replied instead, waltzing over to the other and lacing his arms around Collins' neck, leaning up for a kiss.

Collins happily obliged, warm lips pressed against his lovers.

"What's for breakfast?" he asked, when they separated, more to himself then to Angel; as there was always a somewhat lacking amount of food.

"I thought I'd treat us to some bagels this fine morning!" Angel declared happily, pulling a small pouch out from inside an empty cupboard. "I made out real well last night."

"Baby, you shouldn't always be the one paying for everything--I DO have a job, you know." The professor reminded gently, slipping his arms around the drag queens waist.

"And that money goes towards paying our rent," Angel laughed, leaning back and kissing his taller lovers nose. "What else would I use my money for, anyways?"

"Ha ha… is that a rhetorical question? I've seen you eyeing those dresses for sale down at Level Fifty." Angel frowned.

"I make my own dresses, honey. Just looking at designs!"

"You were also looking at the shoes." He pointed out.

"I can't very well make my own, can I?" they nuzzled each other for a long minute, laughing softly and just breathing the same air.

"So, why bagels?"

"We can get hot chocolate too. I feel like cheese today!"

"You sure you won't get fat?" Collins teased, already knowing the response he'd get.

"No taboo words in my house!" Angel reminded him sternly, swatting his arm.

"Yes dear."

The walk to the local deli required a trip through a park, passed a bus stop, and a trek up-hill. The two lovers held hands tightly, neither having gloves, nor chatting amiably about this-and-that.

Angel has dressed himself in an ankle-length skirt that was really just patches of old skirts and other clothes sewn together in an odd, Picasso-like fashion. He also wore a skin-tight black tank-top, underneath a long-sleeved blue coat (also ankle-length). It was tied loosely in the front by yellow yarn. He'd finished the outfit with his favorite black-bob wig, some light make-up, and 5 ½ inch heeled white boots.

Collins dressed more commonly: khaki's, a blue long-sleeve shirt, a sweat shirt and the long leather jacket Angel bought him. The knit hat he wore was pulled down low, to cover his ears and forehead.

"…and then, momma would run out crying, _'Get back inside, you two! You'll freeze!'—_In Spanish, of course, but we'd laugh, and make her chase us around the yard!" Angel finished some story, laughing hard. Collins joined in sharing the lively transvestites' mirth.

"Ahh, dad was always so amused when we'd come back inside, looking like Rudolph the red nose reindeer!"

"I'd have loved to see that, Angel baby." They grinned at each other.

"We'll just have to play tag in the snow sometime."

Inside the small deli was warm, loud, and packed with homeless spending their few dollars on a warm coffee, tea, or a lightly toasted bagel. Some loitered about, no money, so they just absorbed the heat or used the public restroom.

Angel gave his lover some cash, told him what he wanted, and went to hunt them a table.

When Collins returned with a small tray holding two small cups of hot chocolate, and two bagels with all the free cheese he could grab, Angel had gotten them a two-seater by the window. The drag queen smiled warmly up at the other man, and helped unload the tray.

"It's a good thing today is Sunday," the professor sighed. "I hate taking the subway in the snow."

Angel nodded, taking a not-so feminine bit of his blue-berry bagel smothered in honey cream cheese.

"Of course, that also means I get to spend all day with you." Angel swallowed, hard; face transforming with a wide, warm smile.

"What would you do without me?" he asked lightly, ignoring what could be a deep, painful thought that came from that question. Collins, too, ignored it.

"I wouldn't be eating bagels, that's what." They leaned over the table and shared a cheesy (pun!) kiss.

"Woah, woah, woah! Some people don't wanna see that shit so early, man!" the lovers broke apart, turning their gazes to the new voice. They heard others agreeing with the boy who spoke up in their group. About eight boys were crowing around three pushed together tables. They had trash littered on the ground, and on the table-top.

"Excuse me?" Angel huffed. "No one asked you to look."

"Well no one asked you to flaunt it, did they?"

Collins frowned. "Don't talk to her like that."

A loud murmur and laughs went through the small crowd. "Her?" one piped up, sprawled out on two chairs and laughing. "Damn man, if you think that's a 'her' you need your eyes checked!"

"I bet that's all he wanted—looks!"

"If he wanted looks, he shoulda gotten a real girl! Not some fake girl!" another two argued with the first, laughing harder. Angel was frowning hard, fists clenched. Collins looked ready to stand up and show them exactly what he thought.

Angel beat him to it. The drag queen stood up, pushed his chair out of the way, and moved to the front of the table, so they could get a good look at him.

"I don't see what you're so jealous over," he told them, mocking innocence. Hands on his hips, a wry grin working onto his face. "Just because I'm prettier then any real girl you could ever get, or ever have gotten."

With that he spun back around, hips loose and in action, and grabbed his lover's hand.

"Come on; a bench opened up outside where it smells better." He said the last part louder, glancing over his shoulder to where the boys were still re-grouping that the 'fake girl' had the balls to talk to them like that.

Collins smirked, taking Angels hand and nodding. They grabbed what was left of their small breakfast and sauntered past the boys.

Once outside they broke down in giggles.

I made up a store…because I don't live in New York! XD


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Snow Angels

Author: bakichan (me!)

Fandoms: RENT

Pairings: C/A

Spoilers: nah...not really

Type of fic: fluff/angst, continuation

Summary: chapter 2! Angel and Collins enjoy more time in the snow, and a small make out session

Author's Notes:

Snow Angels: ch.2

* * *

After the pleasantries inside turned to hostility and Angel calmly set some teenage boys back in their place, the two lovers went outside, where the wind blew in short bursts across their faces, with ice chips and snow collected from trees.

Collins and Angel sat close together on the rusting park bench. It was metal, with wood for the seating that splintered if you rubbed it wrong. The back and arm rests were freezing cold, and had icicles dangling from them.

Hot chocolate quickly turned to normal chocolate milk, and bagels stiffened. They finished what was left that was desirable still, before throwing their trash out in a near-by bin. The drag queen stood, taking a deep breath of the minty air and stretching. Collins came behind him, wrapping his arms about the smaller mans body.

"Now what, baby?" he asked softly, nuzzling Angel's pink cheeks with his nose.

"I say we have a snowball fight!" he chuckled at the interesting look that crossed his dark lovers face.

"Snow balls? We're not children anymore, Angel."

"So? Age has never stopped me before." Angel nodded, smiling brightly. "We'll go to the park. There should be plenty of space."

Collins' grip tightened for a moment, before he sighed, grinning himself. "Whatever you say, dear."

Satisfied, the drag queen detached from his lover, snatching his hand.

* * *

The park itself wasn't that big. Nor was it very well cared for. The trashcans that should've been standing were knocked over, and the contents had been covered with snow.

Not too many people were around. There were a couple of small families hanging around, some kids (Angel once again wondered what pocket of space they came from) running around, and a police officer who looked as miserable as he probably felt.

It just so happened that the lot was, indeed, big enough to support two fully grown men hurling crushed masses of snow at each other.

The pair decided they would each go twenty paces from the other, count to three, yell 'Go!' and then begin their snow duel (of doom).

At fifteen paces, Angel's painted eyes narrowed and he smirked. Quietly he leaned down and snatched a handful of snow. At eighteen paces the ball was round and smooth in his bare hands.

Twenty paces and Collins had just bent down to grab snow.

"Take that, Mr. Collins!" Angel yelled loudly, almost tripping on the slick snow as he chucked a neatly compacted ball directly at the other man. It hit him full speed in the shoulder. Angel bit his lip to keep from laughing.

"Oh yeah? It's ON, now, Miss Schunard!" The first one hit Angel in the shin. A second followed very quickly, as Angel had bent down for more of his own snow. This one hit him directly on his rear.

Angel gave a very undignified shriek, and started running from a succession of roughly rolled clods of snow and ice. His lover found it incredibly amusing, however, and kept up his assault till he had his Angel trapped against a tree.

"You win, you win; I surrender!" he yelped at the feeling of his loves cold hand running just under the hem of his shirt.

"Do you now? How can I trust you?" Collins whispered against Angel's ear. "After all," snow was dragged along the bared skin, and Angel whimpered. "You did start before we said 'Go'." Gently he nipped the cold tip of Angel's ear. The skin was tinted bright red from the cold, as were his nose, fingers, and cheeks.

"Honey," Angel implored, turning his head. "Don't be silly, would I lie to you?" he was smiling, and it relieved Collins that his Angel wasn't taking him that seriously.

"I don't know…" he trailed off, staring into his lover's dark eyes framed by dark lashes. Wide and expressive, they narrowed in an expression of love, and they kissed. The world narrowed to just them; there was no more AIDS, no snotty boys who couldn't appreciate true love and fashion, no cold winds and no fingers numb to the bone.

It stayed that way for a long time, marked by breaths of air and Angel turning around, still pinned to the tree.

Lost so in each other, they didn't hear the children approach them. It was when they tugged on Collins' leather coat that the couple broke their kiss, looking confusedly at the cause of the interruption.

"Excuse me, miss lady," one of the children said politely—a little girl, no older then six, with long blond hair drawn into pigtails and a crudely made scarf wrapped around her neck above a thick blue winter coat. Next to her was a boy a few inches shorter then her, suckling his thumb. He matched her outfit—a two for one deal perhaps? His had more patches on it though. Angel wasn't surprised she called him 'miss', after all, she was just a young thing.

"Yes?" Angel replied, moving around his put-out lover and kneeling down to the girls level. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah…" she nodded.

"Then what's wrong?"

"…Me'n my brother Elli wanna know if you'll help us build a snowman!" she announced loudly, as if Angel couldn't hear her over the drifting snow, or her brother's thumb-sucking.

The cross dresser blinked. "Why not ask your parents?" he asked gently.

"Momma don' wanna get wet," the girl told him, frowning deeply. "Said it's just ru…rubb…rubbish."

Angel's heart melted for her, and Collins easily recognized it, even from behind. "Guess we're helping with a snowman, now." He whispered, but grinned at his lovers back.

"Of course I'll help you, sweetheart."

"Really?" she bounced up and down, looking at Angel as if he were Santa Claus himself.

"Really, really!"

The siblings whooped loudly, and bounded off, gesturing for Angel and Collins to follow them.

Angel had stayed with the children for almost a full hour. He helped them roll the snow for the head, middle, and bottom. He had Collins lift them on top of each other. The three of them (Angel, Elli, and the little girl named Chris) improvise the accessories for the man of snow with branches for arms, leaves in a row for the mouth, and rocks for eyes and a nose.

They also add the final touch when Chris insists a large broken branch off a nearby pine tree be draped over the snowman's bald head.

"Yay! It's all done!" the children clapped their hands, and Elli followed his sister in a dance around Angel's legs. "Thank you lady!"

"You're welcome little ones," the cross-dresser cooed, lifting Elli up for a hug. "But you should probably go back to your mommas now." He set the boy down. Chris was sniffling suddenly, her nose beggining to run. Angel's brows drew in concern.

"What's wrong, little one?"

"My fingers hurt!" she whined. "I forgot my gloves at home…" Elli saw his big sister begin to cry, and tears welled up in his eyes as well.

"Oh dear. Why not ask your momma to buy you two some hot cocoa or apple cider?"

"She… doesn't have the money for apple cider!" Chris whimpered, huffing weakly on her hands. Angel tried to rub some warmth into her, but his hands were just as chilled.

"You know what? Here," he reached deep into a pocket sewn inside his skirt. "Tell your momma you found it in the snow. Have her use this to buy you two something warm." With that, Angel pressed a ten dollar bill into her hand. "Don't let anyone but your momma see that." He advised gently.

Her eyes lit up—he suspected she'd never even seen a ten before.

"Okay! Bye bye!"

Angel and Collins waved to the two as they ran off. Angel was breathing heavily, and he rubbed his fingers and hands roughly. The taller man draped an arm around his lover's thin shoulders.

"That was way too nice of you, Angel. Now let's go home and warm YOU up." The drag queen nodded slowly, leaning against his lover.

* * *

Sorry it's so short… but this is the most my inspiration for this fic dictates for now!

Please review :x ?


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